sailor coat and hat complementing her pretty blue eyes. Charlie had Petey in the corner of the store looking at a display of toy airplanes.
“Hello, Miss Baker,” Lilly said as they approached.
Miss Baker offered Lilly a smile, her whole face lighting with the gesture. She put her hand on Lilly’s shoulder. “Hello, Lilly. Have you heard the war is over?”
Lilly nodded, a grin on her face, and looked up at Marjorie. “This is Miss Maren, my new governess.”
Marjorie extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Marjorie Maren.”
Miss Baker shook Marjorie’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I saw you in church on Sunday.” She laughed, and the sound made Marjorie warm to the young lady. “I saw you nodding off and I was jealous! Once, I came home with a black-and-blue mark from where my mother pinched me when I fell asleep in church, and I’ve never done it again.”
“I think Papa would have pinched Miss Maren, too, if he was close enough.” Lilly joined in the laughter.
Marjorie wasn’t inclined to laugh with them, though she offered a complimentary smile. She still hadn’t slept well since coming to the Ortons’ and was barely standing upright at the moment. This was their last stop before going home and she wanted to be done with the chore. “We’re going to have a tea party this Sunday after church and would like for you to join us.”
Miss Baker clasped her hands. “Oh, that sounds lovely. I’ve always wanted to see inside Dr. Orton’s home.” She leaned closer to Marjorie and put up her hand to shield Lilly from her next words. “I feel so terrible about his wife. It must be awfully sad there. What I wouldn’t give to bring a little joy into their lives right about now.”
Marjorie glanced at Lilly and found the girl quietly watching them, though she didn’t ask Marjorie what was said.
“I do hope you can come to the party,” Marjorie said to Miss Baker. “Three o’clock.”
Miss Baker nodded and pinched Laura’s cheek. “I’ll be there.”
“Good. Now we must be off.” Marjorie shifted Laura into her other arm, surprised at how tired her arms felt from holding the little girl. “Come, Lilly.”
“It was nice meeting you, Miss Maren,” Miss Baker called out in a singsong voice.
“And you, too.” Marjorie walked over to the boys and tapped Charlie on the shoulder. “It’s time to leave.”
Charlie stood straight, but Petey didn’t look at Marjorie. He continued to fly the plane, making a motor sound with his lips.
“Petey, it’s time to leave,” Marjorie said. “Please put the airplane down.”
He lifted the plane high in the air and then dipped it low, acting as if he didn’t hear her.
Charlie and Lilly both watched Marjorie.
She would not be with this family long, but she owed it to Dr. Orton, and his future wife, to discipline the child. But how did you get a child to listen and obey?
Marjorie squatted down to be eye level with the little boy and tapped him on the shoulder.
He turned to look at Marjorie, his airplane coming in for a landing.
“Do you like airplanes?”
Petey nodded.
“Have you ever seen a real one? In the air?”
He shook his head.
“I have, when I lived in Chicago. It was flown by a pilot named Glenn Curtiss. I even went up in the airplane for a ride with him.”
Petey’s eyes grew wide. “Really?”
Marjorie nodded. “I’ll tell you all about it tonight when I put you to bed, all right? But now it’s time to go home, so you need to put the airplane back on the shelf for the next little boy who wants to look at it.”
Petey hesitated for a moment and Marjorie sent up a quick prayer, hoping he would obey, because she had no other ideas.
He placed the tin airplane on the shelf and then stood.
Marjorie sighed with relief and pulled herself up, not an easy task with Laura in her arms. She led the little group out of the mercantile, the bell over the door jingling as they walked through.
A festive air filled the streets. The signing of the armistice in France was a boost for the community’s morale.
“Didn’t you need to buy something in there?” Lilly asked.
Marjorie readjusted the bonnet on Laura’s head to protect her from the cold air. “Not today.”
“But you didn’t buy anything at the millinery, the cobbler’s, the dress shop or the mercantile.”
“I’m just looking over the selection before I make a final choice.” Marjorie smiled, tickled that she had told the truth, if somewhat evasively.
Large snowflakes fell gently from the sky, like little feathers from heaven. They landed on their hats and shoulders, and the three older children opened their mouths to try to catch them on their tongues.
The children must have sensed the lighter mood about town. They laughed as they ran around chasing the flakes, their feet leaving prints in the fresh snow gathered on the sidewalk. Tall storefronts stood on either side of Main Street, and green streetlamps dotted the idyllic downtown. More than one person stopped to watch the children, though not everyone smiled along with Marjorie. Some of the older women looked downright mortified by the children’s behavior.
Marjorie considered stopping them—but she remembered the joys and wonders of childhood, and didn’t think it would hurt to let them revel in a carefree moment.
“Are those Dr. Orton’s children?” One lady stopped by Marjorie’s side and squinted at the trio. “No...they couldn’t be.”
Marjorie didn’t know if she should bother to answer, but when the woman turned her beady glare on Marjorie, she didn’t have a choice. “Yes, they are.”
The older woman put her hand over her bosom. “Haven’t you heard the old adage children should be seen and not heard?”
It was one of Marjorie’s least favorite sayings—something her parents had said to her all the time while growing up. “I have.”
“Well?” The lady lifted her eyebrows. “Why can I hear them?”
Charlie and Lilly stopped, but Petey continued to dance in circles, his face tilted to the sky, laughing and blinking as snowflakes landed on his eyelashes and cheeks.
“You can hear them because they’re having fun.” Marjorie lifted her own face to the sky and opened her mouth. A frosty snowflake landed on her tongue and promptly melted. She looked back at the matron and grinned. “You should try it some time.”
The lady stared at Marjorie as if she had grown three heads,
